


Shaky Hands

by MagicaLyss



Series: Bluer Than The Sky (Whumptober 2019) [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Gen, Gun Violence, Hurt Peter Parker, Non-Graphic Violence, Peter Parker Cries, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whumptober 2019, author chose not to use archive warnings but there's gun violence in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 10:46:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20852165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicaLyss/pseuds/MagicaLyss
Summary: Day One of Whumptober 2019





	Shaky Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not using archive warnings for Whumptober because there's too many to choose the majority of the time, but I will be putting them in the tags.   
Gun Violence but not super graphic

Tony would give anything to be back home. He’s holding his kid as close to his body as he can, despite knowing he won’t be able to do anything when the soldiers come back, just as crazed and demanding as ever.  
  


“Mister Stark?” Peter says, voice soft and wavering. “They’re coming back. They- I can hear them coming.”  
  


Unsure how to respond, Tony simply tightens his grip on his kid, making sure he’s between the door and the kid, the only little things he knows how to do to keep Peter safe from those bastards. It’s not much, he knows there’s nothing he’ll be able to do once there’re guns involved, but it’s all he can think of to do. He doesn’t have any way to contact his suits or his teammates, he doesn’t have an escape plan. Not when his stupid sixteen-year-old kid is curled up in his arms, small and dirty and _scared_. He won’t risk anything when he has Peter here.  
  


“I wanna go home,” Peter admits quietly. He already sounds guilty for saying it because they both know how much either of them would give to be back home in the tower, able to just curl up on the couch together. Tony would give anything to have that.  
  


“I know, kiddo, I know,” Tony murmurs, pressing his nose into Peter’s messy, greasy curls. Anything, he’d give anything. “I’m so sorry.”  
  


Rhodey should’ve found them by now. He would’ve been alerted of their disappearances within a few hours and it shouldn’t have taken more than forty-eight hours, but it’s been at least five days that they’ve been in here. Still nothing. No grand rescue. And if it’s taken this long… Tony shudders. He can’t afford to think about the possibility that they may never escape.  
  


The door opens with an ear-grating creak, an echoing click when it shuts audibly behind the man.  
  


“Hello, my wonderful patients,” the man drawls, a thick Brooklyn accent in his voice. “I have a new experiment I’d like to test out.”  
  


“You’re not a real doctor,” Tony says. He’s not sure why he does. Talking has never really gotten them very far. Maybe it’s because he thought Peter might’ve. “I don’t see a lab coat or a degree or a clipboard. If you’re going for doctor vibes, you’re really missing a big part here. I wouldn’t give you candy on Halloween for the failure of a costume.”  
  


The man’s in a pair of jeans, a button-up, suspenders, a tie, a jacket loosely hung over his arm. It’s a bit too casual for Tony’s liking, but it seems to be right up Peter’s alley. The teenager’s much too used to casual villains and criminals around Queens. Tony’s a bit more comfortable in Justin Hammer types or Whiplash, not random regular people.  
  


“I’m not a doctor, Stark. I’m a scientist and scientists don’t need fancy equipment or schooling. All we need is an idea,” he explains with a small smile. “You understand, don’t you, Stark?”  
  


“Well, I do have fancy equipment _and _fancy schooling, so I’m not sure I do.” Tony’s much too aware of the way Peter’s hands are curling into Tony’s t-shirt.  
  


Tony had been wearing a three-piece suit when he was taken, but he’d given the jacket to Peter almost as soon as they woke up, making sure the spider-kid kept up a good temperature. The jacket is slipping around Peter’s skinnier-than-ever frame, and Tony fights the urge to swaddle the kid like a baby.  
  


“Hmm,” the man replies, not too interested in the conversation anymore. His eyes are trained on Peter, making Tony curl a little bit tighter over Peter’s body. “I have an experiment.”  
  


“You already said that,” Tony spits angrily. He doesn’t care what it is, as long as Peter’s not the one getting hurt. Unfortunately, Tony doesn’t always get what he wishes for.  
  


The man lifts his jacket off his arm, revealing a single handgun. It’s pretty small, not too intimidating considering some of the weapons the heroes have been up against, but Peter’s shivering against Tony’s chest in the cold cellar and Tony’s feet are numb. They won’t be much good trying to dodge bullets.  
  


“Now, I know what you are thinking, Stark, but that wouldn’t be much of an experiment, would it?” The gun clatters to the floor between the man and the pair. “The experiment is to see what a father would do to keep his son alive.”  
  


“Anything.” It comes out less intimidating and more beggingly than Tony was hoping for.  
  


“If you do not shoot the child, anywhere you desire, I’ll put a bullet right between his eyes. A simple game, Stark.”  
  


Tony could’ve sworn his heart stopped, glaring at the piece of metal on the floor, and holding Peter just a little bit tighter.  
  


“What if I shoot you?” Tony asks defiantly. Peter’s trembling fingers curl a little bit tighter in his shirt.  
  


But the man laughs. “There’s another six men behind that door, Stark, plus another six upstairs. All of which have weapons and wouldn’t hesitate to kill you and the child. What are you going to do with one bullet?”  
  


Tony doesn’t answer, simply lays a guilty kiss to Peter’s forehead, already mentally weighing the pros and cons of every scenario he can think of.  
  


“You have one minute before we choose for you.” The man kicks the gun a little bit closer to the pair. “I’ll be waiting.”  
  


The door slams shut behind him when he leaves and a red dot lights up across from them. A video camera. Sixty seconds to shoot his kid, how unfair is that?  
  


“Pete, Bambi, I need- I need you against the other wall,” Tony says, trying his best to stay strong. If Peter’s farther, hopefully that’ll hurt less, and he’ll be out of the general view of the camera. Tony doesn’t have a choice. Either he sends a bullet into Peter’s arm or leg or somewhere non-lethal, or Peter dies. Tony can’t risk it. He knows he can’t.  
  


“Mister Stark?” Peter asks, slowly lifting his head in confusion. His eyes are already glazed over, the cold and the agony of the past few days having caught up to him, making him look even younger.  
  


Tony can’t find his voice, so he carefully helps Peter move over to the far way, propping his limp body up against the cement. He knows it’s not going to be comfortable, and he’s just going to make it worse.  
  


He can’t even touch the gun. It sits between him and Peter, but his hands are shaking and his breaths aren’t coming at all, and Peter’s watching him in dazed, unsure confusion.  
  


“Mis’er S’ark?” Peter tries again, voice already starting to slur in his frozen exhaustion. And Tony has to shoot him. Tony has to put a bullet in his fucking child.  
  


“I’m so sorry, Pete,” Tony says instead. He squeezes his eyes shut, hand closing over the metal.  
  


“Twenty seconds, Stark. Get the show on the road,” the man shouts from the other side of the door, a loud knock nearly making Tony flinch, he holds strong though.  
  


“I’m sorry,” Tony repeats, eyes closed, hands shaking as he lifts the gun towards Peter. He has to open his eyes. He has to look to see where he’s pointing the gun. He’ll have to look at his kid, his innocent child as he pulls the trigger.  
  


Peter sniffles quietly and when Tony opens his eyes, Peter’s are closed, squeezed shut and awaiting the inevitable, stray tears making their way down his pale cheeks.  
  


The bang makes both of them flinch, even though Tony was the one who pulled the trigger. The gun is immediately clattering out of Tony’s hands and onto the ground. His stomach twists and he shoves the gun away from him, towards the corner of the room. Peter didn’t even make a noise.  
  


The young hero is curled on his side, silent tears making their way down his face, catching in his dirty hair and making a noticeable darker grey area on the floor, but that’s nothing compared to the dark red stain that fills the area below him.  
  


Tony fumbles forwards, crawling his way over to Peter with shaking hands and crying himself too.  
  


“Pete- Petey, it’s going to be okay. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I- I-” Tony tries, one hand cradling Peter’s cheek and the other reaching towards Peter’s side. He should’ve picked his arm or his thigh or something, he was just too worried with his shaking hands that he’d miss entirely and then Peter would die just because Tony couldn’t aim a gun.  
  


Peter chokes on a breath, hands scrabbling to grab onto Tony, mouth open but no noises escaping.  
  


“Fuck- Oh my- Okay, I- I’m going to fix you right up, okay? Kiddo, Spider-Baby. You’ve got enhanced healing, remember? You’ll be just fine. I’ve got you. Please. It’s going to be okay,” Tony rambles anxiously. He grabs his jacket from around Peter’s shoulders, trying to keep his head focused on first aid. It doesn’t help that the shaking has made it’s way through the majority of his body, he’s just shaking and trembling and he can’t think beyond his overwhelming guilt.  
  


He ties a shitty tourniquet around Peter’s stomach, just hoping more than anything that Peter’s healing factor will take care of this because if Peter-  
  


He can’t think like that. He can’t afford to think about the possibilities.  
  


All he can think about is the here and now. And right here, right now, Peter needs him.  
  


So he pulls Peter into a hug, cradling his kid against his chest and praying Rhodey finds them soon. 


End file.
